Push
by Sarapsys
Summary: Aang is picking up firebending a little too quickly for Zuko's liking.  Katara knows how he feels.


**Cleaning out some folders and found this, mostly finished, so figured I might as well top it off and pack it out.**

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"Focus on what you're doing, Aang! This isn't a little puff of air. If you don't pay attention you can do some serious damage! Start over and do it right this time!" Zuko reprimands from where he's standing among the columns, arms crossed over his chest and a deeper scowl than usual stamped on his face.

Sulking like a schoolboy who's been told to do another set of recitations, Aang stomps back to his starting point and gets back in position.

Zuko knows the Avatar is in a sour mood. Who can blame him? Everyone else is down at the beach relaxing, or at least not being yelled at by the irascible firebender and being put through the same rigorous forms over and over again under the blazing sun. Zuko has been pushing him for four hours straight, and for five hours before lunch, and all day yesterday, and the day before that. He's drenched in sweat and probably thirsty and clearly not at all used to this demanding pace of training. He's a little boy and he wants to go play with his friends.

As Aang repeats the form, obviously a little distracted yet still producing an undeniably impressive jet of flame, Zuko finds that he doesn't feel a single speck of sympathy.

The truth is, Aang is doing well. Extremely well. _Unnaturally_ well. Even with his attention wandering off in ten directions, the boy has reached a level of proficiency in less than a week that Zuko fought his way to after three years of exhausting drilling no less demanding than what he's putting Aang through now. If anything, the Avatar has it easy, because he doesn't have the perfect (and malicious) prodigy Azula as his sparring partner. He's tired, but it's the heat and the physical exertion and repetition that are wearing him down. Firebending itself is coming as naturally to the kid as it did to his sister.

"Again!" he snaps for what feels like the hundredth time.

Aang's shoulders slump. "Again? How much longer are we going today? I did it right that time, didn't I?"

"We're going to keep going until you _concentrate_! Now stop whining, and start again!"

"I brought you guys something to drink," Katara's voice comes from behind him, and of course the Avatar seems to think that's an excuse to stop what he's doing right in the middle of the form and come scampering over.

"Hey! I said to repeat that form. Do it three more times—_correctly_—and you can take a short break," Zuko snaps (feeling that he's being generous, given the completely unwelcome interruption).

Zuko can't hear what Aang is muttering under his breath as he slouches back to his starting position again, but he's sure it probably isn't very friendly.

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on him?" Katara asks in an undertone, watching Aang advance across the courtyard.

"No. He's got a lot to learn in a short amount of time. He has to be ready to face the Fire Lord," Zuko says harshly.

"That's true." Katara holds the other coconut out to him. "Here."

"No thank you."

She holds it out for a moment longer, but he doesn't waver. Sighing, Katara goes back to watching Aang, her voice dropping to a murmur. "Is he really struggling that much with it? I know he had a hard time catching on with earthbending, but I figured it was just that it was his natural opposite…I thought that with fire—"

"Not terrible," Zuko says. "He just…gets distracted easily."

A roaring blast of flame shrivels what's left of the overgrown vines that Aang is aiming at, then he trots wearily back to his starting stance again, grumbling to himself. Katara is impressed. Zuko's scowl darkens.

"Again! With more control this time."

No, not struggling a bit. His stance is sloppy and his mind is everywhere but what on he's doing, and somehow he's still doing amazing. It only makes Zuko want to push him harder. When he thinks of his own training—the endless drilling, the iron-hard discipline he'd had to develop, trying again and again and again only to fail, and get up again—

That resentful, vengeful part of him that will never, ever forgive his sister not just for her cruelty and all the things she's done to him, but for being what she is

(talented, a prodigy, _perfect_)

is just burning to impress upon Aang what it is to _really _struggle.

"He seems like he's doing really well to me," Katara comments, in a tone that suggests she's trying to cheer the firebending teacher up.

"Yeah," Zuko mutters. "Really well."

And maybe his face is easier to read than he knew, or the waterbender is more perceptive than he gave her credit for, but either way she suddenly says, "It's hard, isn't it."

"What?" he snaps, turning to look at her with his good eye.

She gestures toward the firebender-in-training, now on his second iteration of the form, with the coconut drink. "Training Aang. The Avatar. It's just…so natural to him."

"Well, good thing for us. He's hasn't got long to learn."

"I know. It's just kind of tough." She's got that understanding look on her face, the one that just barely brushes the edge of patronizing, which he hates. "I started training him in waterbending before I had a chance to work with a master."

It's been a while now, but suddenly it occurs to Zuko that the first time they encountered each other, the waterbender's work _had_ been very—well—calling it bending was definitely a little generous. At least, he thought, he'd had masters growing up. Learning had been difficult enough with their guidance. He's not sure he could have taught himself.

"That must have been frustrating," Zuko says, watching Aang hurry through the last pass of the form.

"Yeah," Katara says a little tightly. "It was." When he glances at her, though, she smiles. "Like you said, though. I'd rather I get frustrated teaching him than that we run out of time because he's not ready."

"Yeah."

"Can I have that drink now?" Aang asks eagerly, beside them within an instant of finishing.

"Here," said Katara, handing it to him. As the boy downs half of the cool juice, Zuko finally accepts his as well.

"You're doing a good job," Zuko says curtly, then, with an effort, "That's probably enough for today."

"Finally!" Aang whoops, spilling half his drink as he immediately goes tearing off for the beach. "Come on, let's go swimming!"

Zuko stifles a sigh.

But a swim doesn't sound so bad, really. Heaven knows his own masters would never have given him such a respite, but at the moment the firebending teacher thinks he's not so terribly sorry to be able to be able to call it a day for himself as well. And he hasn't realized how dry his own throat was until he takes a sip of his drink.

He realizes with a start that Katara is still eyeing him, as though trying to gauge if he's still angry or not.

"Yeah, sure," Zuko says, defeated but strangely not as upset about it as he thinks he should be. "Let's go swimming."


End file.
